


By Any Other Name

by SkyFireForever



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, But Not Much, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gardens & Gardening, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyFireForever/pseuds/SkyFireForever
Summary: Written for the mechtober prompt: “Tree”.Brian loves his garden.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is bad and I apologize. But I finished it twenty minutes before the deadline, so.

Brian loved his garden. He cherished it and took care of it to the best of his ability. Sometimes plants died, but that was the nature of things. Things lived and things died. Sometimes things seemed dead only for them to come back healthier than ever. 

Plants were poetic, in a way. They were the embodiment of life and change and staying the same. They were a mess of contradictions and Brian appreciated each and every one of the plants in his care. 

He wandered through his garden, his little secret place. Well, it wasn’t actually a secret, but the other Mechanisms knew not to bother him if he was there. It was a private place, a place only for him. 

It was nice, having such an area that was carved out as his own. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the company of the other Mechs, he did, and he loved them dearly, but they could be a lot to handle and sometimes he just needed to get away.

And so, he would come to his garden. 

It felt familiar to him in a way, as if he’d had a garden before. And maybe he had, in some far off life that he couldn’t remember. How was he to know? 

He walked over to his little spearmint plants, checking the leaves for holes that might have appeared. They seemed healthy, luckily enough. He inhaled the scent of them, smiling a bit to himself. 

They smelled of something familiar, something sweet and perfect. It filled his mind with memories of cleanliness and joy. He thought of the Toy Soldier, who would put mint in its tea that it often made. He never knew why until he had thought to ask it. 

_ “Mint Belongs In Tea, Mister Drumbot!” It had happily exclaimed. “It Is Familiar!”  _

_ “Familiar?” He had asked. “What does it remind you of?” _

_ The Toy Soldier hadn’t answered.  _

But the more he thought of it, the more he realized that the Toy Soldier always smelled very faintly of mint. Brian thought it was fitting. It was clean and sweet, just like the Toy Soldier itself was. 

He made his way away from the spearmint plants, comforted by the fact that they were growing nicely. He knelt beside the rosemary, watering the plants that were looking a little dry. He smiled as he inhaled the scent of them, not quite as familiar as the mint, but pleasant all the same. 

Rosemary was a symbol of remembrance, of memory. And thus, he had always associated it with Ivy. Ivy, who remembered anything and everything you threw at her. Ivy, who could tell you what was said on page 146 of the book she read three years ago. Ivy, who was brilliant and bright and absolutely amazing in every way. 

Brian remembered a time when Ivy hadn’t quite understood that other people didn’t have the memory she had. 

_ “Do you remember Julius Poitnois?” She had asked him out of the blue.  _

_ “Who?”  _

_ “Julius Poitnois. They were a tall bloke with red hair. We met them four hundred years ago. They were the cashier at a refueling station.”  _

_ “Oh, uh, no. No, I don’t remember them.”  _

_ “How? You have a mechanical brain too. Why don’t you remember?”  _

_ “Maybe because I don’t pay as much attention.”  _

_ That had caught Ivy by surprise.  _

It didn’t matter why Ivy could remember things that he couldn’t, not really. What mattered was that she did. He admired her for it, though he knew it couldn’t be the easiest thing in the world. 

He hummed to himself as he stepped away from the rosemary, walking a little ways towards the wide array of flowers that he had planted. He stopped by the dahlias, making sure that they were thriving. 

He studied their petals, thinking fondly of Marius. Marius had always loved Brian’s flowers whenever he picked some and brought them inside, and dahlias were Marius’ favorite, which Brian found to be quite fitting. 

Dahlias were beautiful, bright, and bold. Just like Marius

They were symbols of inner strength and creativity, both things that Marius had a surplus of. He was so smart, even if he sometimes played the part of an idiot. He was witty and funny and loved making people smile. He took pride in his music, in his friendships, and he always was willing to lend a hand. 

Brian could remember when Marius began believing that he really was just a punchline. 

_ “Brian, do you think I’m stupid?” He had asked one day. “Be honest with me here.”  _

_ “No, Marius. I don’t think you’re stupid. Not at all.” _

_ “Why not?”  _

_ “Well, because you come up with wonderful music and witty jokes and you have brilliant ideas. I simply don’t believe that someone who was stupid could come up with the things you do.”  _

_ Marius hadn’t stopped smiling the whole day.  _

Next up was the pitcher plants. They hung from above, so Brian couldn’t see them well, but from what he could tell, they were doing quite well. He was pleased. 

They made him think of Raphaella, with how beautiful they were, but also with how deadly. They enticed their prey, but once their prey got too close, it was all over. There was nothing to be done. 

Not to mention how scientifically fascinating they were. 

Brian remembered the first time he had been truly afraid of Raphaella. He had walked into her lab to discover her covered in blood. 

_ “Raphaella?” _

_ “Get out.” Her voice had been low and dangerous. “Get out!” She had spun around, blood dripping down her front.  _

_ Brian had fled.  _

But as scary as Raphaella could sometimes be, he cared for her immensely. She had her softer moments, her moments of vulnerability. She was highly protective over the people she cared about and could be very affectionate. 

That didn’t make her any less deadly. 

After ensuring that the pitcher plants were doing just lovely, he moved to the dryer section of the garden. He found the cacti and looked them over, making sure they weren’t being overwatered. 

He smiled at one of the cacti, proud of how strongly it was growing. He brushed his metal hand over the arm of the cactus, safe in the knowledge that it couldn’t hurt him.

The cactus was much like Jonny, proud, intimidating, and dangerous. But also protective of its lifeblood, of that which made it whole. Jonny could be quite prickly, always trying to keep people away. But once he decided you were his, he was fiercely protective. He wouldn’t let anything happen to those he loved, even if he refused to admit that he loved them. 

Brian could remember a time when he’d first seen Jonny’s walls come tumbling down. 

_ He had walked into Jonny’s room, seeing him curled up on the floor.  _

_ “Jonny?” He had quickly approached him, placing a hand against his shaking back.  _

_ “Don’t touch me!” Jonny had all but screamed, flinching away. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” _

_ Brian had quickly backed away. “Okay. Okay, I won’t touch you.” He had told him in the gentlest voice he could manage. “But I’m not going away, okay? I’m here for you.”  _

_ Jonny hadn’t said a word, but once he calmed down, he had muttered a quick “thanks” before leaving the room.  _

Brian smiled at the memory. Jonny refused to talk about his feelings even after all this time, but he seemed to appreciate the knowledge that someone was there for him, even if he pretended that he didn’t want it. 

He made his way to the forest part of his garden, the part full of trees of various kinds. He walked up to lodgepole pine trees, running his hand over their bark. He smiled to himself. The lodgepole pines were interesting in that their cones opened to release their seeds in high temperatures, usually in wildfires. 

It was no surprise that the lodgepole pine reminded him so much of Ashes. They were fiery and loved the heat of battle or of an intense conversation. They also were somewhat the most emotionally vulnerable of the Mechs. They weren’t afraid to open up under the right circumstances. 

Brian thought of just how open and comforting they could be. 

_ “Ashes?” Brian had entered the common room, spotting Ashes cleaning their bass. “Oh. I hadn’t expected to see you here.”  _

_ “Problem?”  _

_ “No. No, I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”  _

_ Ashes had furrowed their brow and patted the seat next to them. “Have a seat.” They had offered and Brian had taken them up on it. “Now, what’s upsetting you?” _

_ “I never said-” _

_ “You didn’t need to.”  _

_ And so they had spent the entire night trading stories about their lives, about the shitty things they had been through. Ashes had listened when he needed it and had spoken when he’d needed that. It had been nice.  _

Brian cherished Ashes and was so glad that they were in his life. He didn’t know what he’d do without them. 

The eucalyptus tree was next, with its sap that sometimes caused the tree to explode under the right conditions. Was it any wonder that the explosive properties reminded Brian of his gunner, the man who’d blown up the moon? 

Tim could be explosive, yes, but he also tied everyone together in a way. He helped everyone channel their emotions, even if it wasn’t in the healthiest of ways. He was sarcastic and snarky, but like Jonny, cared about the other Mechanisms more than he would admit. 

He was hard and traumatized, but still wonderful and downright friendly at times. 

Brian thought back to a time when Tim’s explosive nature was prevalent. 

_ “Who the fuck ate my cereal?” Tim had burst into the kitchen, eyes wild.  _

_ Brian had looked up. “What?”  _

_ “Someone ate my fucking cereal! Was it you?”  _

_ “I didn’t eat your cereal.” He had said calmly.  _

_ “Fucking liar!” He had lunged at him, knocking him out of his chair.  _

_ Brian had ended up dead, but they’d laughed about it later.  _

Brian smiled and went up to the final tree, a beautiful cedar tree that had stood tall the longest. It was bushy and round, its branches spreading out. 

He looked at it and thought of Nastya. Nastya, in all her everliving glory. She had survived so much, had endured everything she had gone through. She was tall and she was strong. Just like a cedar tree. 

Brian admired her for everything she was. She was clever, compassionate, and had love in her heart. He couldn’t imagine how she was so nice after everything she’d gone through. 

He remembered a time when she hadn’t appeared quite so strong. 

_ Soft crying could be heard coming from the engine room. Brian had walked in, seeing Nastya bent over, tears streaming down her face. _

_ “Nastya?”  _

_ She had looked up, quickly wiping her eyes. “Brian.” She had said stiffly.  _

_ “Are you alright?”  _

_ “I am fine.”  _

_ “Are you really?”  _

_ She had hesitated. “No.”  _

_ She had collapsed in his arms, crying for a long while. He had held her, allowing her to not be so strong for once. _

Brian smiled to himself, walking out of the garden. He cast one more glance behind himself, just appreciating the view. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me your thoughts!


End file.
